


Muffins

by indigowaterbears



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigowaterbears/pseuds/indigowaterbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia suddenly realises it's Mother's Day and her feelings are all over the place. Trying to help make the day better for Meredith's first without Derek, she actually makes things worse for her, but luckily Owen's at the right place and right time to help her get her - and himself - through the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muffins

Amelia walked into the hospital on autopilot. She'd been here in Seattle long enough that she could just turn off part of her brain and still function. It made things easier, especially when everything else was so hard she couldn't breathe, the possibility of letting go of just walking to her locker to change and walking to the attending's lounge for coffee was a blissful and calming. Things were hard enough already, not that she'd ever let that show. She had expected Edwards to be more comfortable around her after the jokes stopped, she'd expected the disappointment of the interns and residents she'd attracted over the last year, but Edwards was wary and constantly walking on eggshells around her and everyone else just stared, they stared and stared, looking away whenever she caught them. Her outburst in the freaking middle of the hospital certainly hadn't helped matters and, while she'd thought it would win her the bunny boiler reputation, it actually got her pity and sympathetic. Crazy she could do, but this was getting on her nerves, the worst was she felt like she was on edge all the time, right about to burst and that would only make things worse. The last few days she actually felt like a ticking bomb. Ever since Owen had come back she really did feel like she was about to explode. Taking a deep, deep breath she stepped out, she had nowhere she needed to be, she had an aneurysm clip in a few hours, so barring an emergency her day was as smooth as it could be.

It was.

Until she walked by the nurses' station and she saw all the cards and decorations. Today was Mother's Day. Amelia felt her eyes tear up and her chest become heavy as if under a rock. Noticing the people around, staring as they usually did, she just took a shaky breath walking away. Not too fast, not too slow. She had told herself it was fine. She had the first year, Jake had taken her out for coffee, insisting she should spend the day however she preferred, then he second she spent with James, who tried his best to make the day as okay as possible for her. Last year she covered Derek's shift so he could be with Meredith and the kids, nobody knew just how hard it would be for her and she found it made her feel better. She had a chance not to think about it, bury this day in the pile of days every year she pretended that didn't actually exist, the pile was growing more and more in passing time. Of course Addison had called and so had Charlotte and Sheldon, but she'd just texted and ignored the calls, pretending she didn't have all the reasons to drink the day away was going much, much better than tip toeing around it. What just sucked was how she had all the reasons not to drink as well. Amelia wasn't surprised she'd forgotten about today, nobody had mentioned anything about it, she was quite sure Meredith wouldn't be in the mood to celebrate as well.

Actually, that was an amazing idea. Feeling suddenly relieved she checked the time and sprinted into the direction of daycare. Mother's Day was going to be one of the worst days of the year for her, but it shouldn't be for Meredith, she wouldn't want to celebrate it, but she needed it. Derek would want her to have the best day possible. So, she did what he couldn't do anymore. She all but barged in and her nephew flew into her arms. She picked him up, ignoring how she wasn't even supposed to visit and sat down on one of the little coloured chairs with him. "Hi."

He just gave her a big drooly smile. "Auntie Amy."

She teared up a little at the nickname, it seemed while Derek used to be the only one allowed to call her that his kids had picked up the habit, she found it didn't bother her even a little bit. "Did you know that today is a very, very special day?" she said in a very big, dramatic voice, catching the little boys' interest. Bailey who was completely captured by his aunt's words shook his head vehemently. "Today is a very special day for your Mommy."

He frowned in an impossibly adorable way. "Is it her birfady?"

"A little bit like that." She adjusted him in her lap, holding him close to her. "Today's like a birthday of all the mommies there are."

He seemed to think about it for a minute, trying to decide if what his aunt was saying made sense or it sounded completely made up. "She gets a cake?"

Amelia nodded. "She could, but we don't have any."

"And presents?"

Amelia smiled, pushing away all of her feelings, deciding to concentrate all her energy and focus on making something for Meredith. "I thought we could make her something special, do you have any ideas?"

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, furrowing his brows. Amelia smiled at him, he looked nothing like Derek – apart from his eyes – apparently, though, he was a lot like his father beyond appearance. "A drawing?" he said suddenly, jumping in her arms, almost bumping his head against hers, something she knew from experience to be so, very painful.

"Sure. Why don't you go get the stuff and then come back here?" he nodded eagerly, jumping and scrambling to collect paper and crayons. Amelia sighed. She wished she could get Zola on this as well, but surely she'd take something home from preschool, it was sad seeing her growing up like this. Ellie was still way too little to understand anything that wasn't eating or sleeping or spitting. When her mind, while waiting for Bailey, started wandering and realised her baby would have been old enough to be in preschool as well she felt a lump in her throat. Luckily, Bailey was already clumsily climbing back up in her lap by the time she was getting sad enough to need to put herself back together.

"I got the crayons!" he held up a few to her too and then looked up expectantly. "What are we drawing?"

Amelia chewed the inside of her cheek. "Uh, I was thinking something your Mommy really likes, what could that be?"

Bailey wrinkled his chin, leaning his head on her shoulder. Sensing the change in his bubbly demeanour Amelia rubbed his leg affectionately, leaning her head against his. Out of the blue, a couple of seconds later, he gasped and bounced up in her arms, holding up his crayon and turning to his aunt. Unfortunately, he had used such force he'd hit Amelia right on her cheekbone with his head, sending a jolt of pain through her entire face. Grunting and trying not to let her pain show she sat up straighter, squeezing her eyes shut for a second – oh, that hurt, she remembered right. Rubbing the sore spot she breathed deeply. "Did you think of something?"

He nodded, smiling widely up at her, oblivious of her struggle not to look as in pain as she was. "Yeah, I could make a drawing with ALL the things she likes. So she is going to be really happy about it."

"I think that's a great idea."

He plunged into the box of crayons and started scribbling on the piece of paper in front of him while Amelia held him contentedly. It was turning into an oddly therapeutic activity, not only it was helping her keep her mind from today, but it was going to make Meredith happy – nostalgic yes, but happy. She peeked from time to time over his shoulder, careful not to lean in too close in case he would suddenly lean back evening out the bruise forming on her face. Trying with all her might she kept failing at spotting what the various things were she just sat back waiting for him to finish, he wasn't Picasso after all – actually, it did look a little bit like Picasso, chaotic and random and full of indiscernible items. "Hey Bailey, what are you drawing?"

He sat back, slowly this time, it was a wonder his head wasn't hurting as much as her cheekbone. He held up his drawing proudly and Amelia had to admit, she had absolutely no idea what it was – exactly like Picasso. He pointed at something and started explaining. "This is the bed, because Mommy loooves sleeping. And this is Ellie and me and Zo. This is you with a biiiig cake for Mommy, cause we didn't get her a real one. This is Uncle Alex and Uncle Owen."

She smiled broadly, she was having a really hard time making out all the things that were supposedly represented, apart from the cake, which was a giant brown blob with red sticks on it, the birthday metaphor must have been a bit confusing. Then she spotted something that didn't fit with the rest. "What about this, what is this?"

"Daddy." He turned to look at her, twisting his head backwards. "Zo always says he's in heaven, so I put him in the sky."

Amelia squinted, feeling her heartache at the easiness in Bailey's tone. It was in the far corner of the drawing, it was a weirdly shaped blue cloud. She hadn't even noticed her eyes had teared up until he pointed it out.

"Did I make you sad?"

"No, no you didn't." she smiled, though the tears in her eyes. "It's beautiful."

He frowned for a moment looking up at her, pouting. "Do you think Mommy will like it?"

Amelia hugged him closer. "Of, course she will. Why don't you sign it?"

"Cause I can't write, silly Auntie Amy." He smirked bumping playfully against her, this time avoiding any sort of injury. For some reason he made everything feel better.

Amelia cleared her throat. "How about we do it together? You hold your crayon and I can put my hand on yours and guide it and you can write anything that you want?"

She put her hand gently over his, while holding the pink crayon he'd used to draw all the people. "Wow, it's like magic!"

"Exactly. Now tell me what you want to write down."

Once they were done, Amelia made sure to put Bailey's present with his things so that Meredith would find it whenever she'd come to pick him up. As soon as she left the room, the heaviness in her chest was back with a vengeance. Maybe spending time surrounded by children today had been the worst possible idea, it had been a good distraction for about twenty minutes, but now all she could think about was all the drawings and presents and slobbery kisses she hadn't got for Mother's Day. She still had hours before her surgeries and somehow no one today had fallen and banged their head, so she had nothing to do, which was only allowing her brain the space and time for a walk down memory lane. The confidence she'd built over the time she spent with Bailey was slowly crumbling, having everyone ignoring her and not giving her a second look today, while everyone was fussing over April Kepner, was in fact painful. She did want people badgering her into having pizza or go to the movies' or getting into a devastatingly long surgery. She had to remind herself it wasn't because here nobody cared, they just didn't know. Her people in LA were maybe a bit more intrusive and all over the place, but she knew people here cared as well. Pretending today was any other day was really not working, she tried to calm herself and make her way back to the attendings lounge where she could stuff her face with chocolate muffins and pretend the rest of the hospital didn't exist – not until she could go cut into somebody's brain. Halfway through her third muffin – she had cranberry, chocolate and was now onto blueberry – the door opened quietly. He didn't look up at first, assuming it wasn't for her anyway and not really wanting to engage anyone who would just end up thinking she was bored or felt left out of the elite group of women that got to celebrate today. Someone sat on the chair opposite hers forcing her to look up.

"I was going to offer some sort of comfort, but I see I'm not needed." Owen joked, but his voice and his eyes didn't reflect his words. He looked sad. Amelia then remembered he knew, she had told him about her baby and he probably knew that he was the only one here privy to that information and was checking up on her.

She tried half a smile, but it was hard with a mouthful of muffin. Chewing slowly and swallowing the whole thing, she looked at him sighing. "It's okay. I could really use a distraction."

Owen just smiled back. Things between them were so weird, neither had spoken a word fearing that this equilibrium would somehow be irrevocably altered. While her words stung a bit, he knew it wasn't about him, he wasn't the distraction, he would provide one. Sadly, though, he hadn't planned that far. "How bad are you doing?"

Amelia shrugged. "Considering I hadn't even realised what today was, I'm going to be feeling a lot worse in a few hours, but it's alright, I've done it a few times before."

Owen nodded. He didn't believe her for one second, but he appreciated how open she was being. It was still light years away from actually being open with him, but he'd realised he just had to give her time and be patient, the rest would come. "It never gets any easier, though, does it?"

She looked up, blue eyes tinged with curiosity over all the sadness. His voice was… different, it wasn't just understanding, there was something else. She realised he'd said that to her, but it sounded a lot like he was saying it from the deep bottom of his heart, so in a way it sounded like he was talking to himself as well. Her face fell, she didn't know much about him, aside from what she'd gathered from the hospital scuttlebutt, but never she had heard anything about him losing a child. Yet the tone of his voice told her a completely different story. "Nope, never."

When Owen saw the big, warm smile on her face he wanted to melt. He wanted to reach over and take her hand in his, but she was still holding tightly the ripped apart muffin and that could get messy. The look in her eyes was finally the one he'd seen those very few times they been together alone, especially those times they'd been fully clothed. It was loving and inviting and it made him feel safe, it made him feel like he could tell her all the horrible things he'd done and she'd just sit there with him. Suddenly, she looked away, she looked down at her lap, letting go of the muffin, shaking her hands from all the crumbs. He saw her take in a shaky breath, her hands were gripping her scrub pants so tight that her knuckles were white. As soon as he heard her sniffle, despite knowing fully well she was struggling to keep her composure he kneeled in front of her. Immediately she turned away, covering her face with her hands, Owen could see she was trying her hardest to keep from shaking and breaking down completely right before him. Without even thinking, he took her hands from her face, using the force necessary when she resisted him, and stood, pulling her up with him. Once she was standing, still not looking at him, he took her hand in his and walked to the door taking her along. Expecting resistance, he pulled a little harder and she went stumbling into him, their eyes met briefly half surprised, half dazed, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arm around her waist walking her out of the room, not giving a single thought to anyone who might see them.

He felt her stiffen when they walked in the hallways of the hospital, but as soon as they stepped in the elevator and were alone she relaxed, leaning into him. She asked where they were going a few times and complained when they stepped out in what looked like the basement, but he ignored her, pulling her along with him. When they stepped into a room and he walked her into a certain spot, steadying her holding her waist, she looked at him bewildered. "Owen? What is this?"

He said nothing. He'd been incredibly hesitant about bringing her here, this place and his and Cristina's. It was supposed to be theirs, but maybe it could be of comfort to her too. He knew the longer he ignored her the more frustrated she grew and he silently urged things to move along. Owen tightened his hold when he felt her try to pull away and looked at her straight in the eyes as if to ask her to wait and to trust him, on this at least. She raised her eyebrows, asking, but not asking, why in the world they were standing in the basement, in silence. Before Owen could answer, in any way, though, there was a gush of air coming from right underneath her. Amelia closed her eyes, lost in the sensation. It felt like flying, for a moment there, she got to forget about everything at all – well, exception made for Owen's hands still holding onto her. When the air stopped, she looked around this room as if it were magical and, to Owen, that was more than enough. It would have been perfect, but the way she looked at him right now, marvel and excitement and carefree smiles, that was perfect. The way her eyes got so big and so blue, the way her hands were holding onto his chest as if she was scared the air was going to drag her away was perfect to him. He moved one of his hands from her waist, cupping her cheek, relishing in feeling her pulse hammering in her neck and the way her breath came out in uneven puffs of air. His brain stopped him, because all he wanted to do right now was kiss her and kiss her until she looked at him and smiled at him like that everyday forever. He couldn't, not now, not today, not given their history. What he could do though, was pull her to him, hold her so tight that she would know what he had wanted to do so badly.

The moment of hesitation worried him, but the way she moulded into him afterwards told him she probably was just as disappointment as he was. They held onto each other tightly for a long, long time.

"He would have been three this year, almost four." She murmured into his neck.

He nuzzled her neck, wanting to hug her even tighter. He couldn't imagine what this must feel for her. This morning he's thought maybe he could convince her to talk to April, he was sure they would both benefit from that, but upon seeing her drown her feelings in muffins he'd known that would probably be a disaster. Taking a deep breath he did what he never thought he would. "Mine would be four."

Amelia pulled back, keeping her hands on his chest and the rest of her body still attached to his. She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. He knew what she wanted to know and he knew that he couldn't tell her. Instead, he just stroked her cheek with his thumb. "It wasn't meant to be." Looking more closely, though, he noticed a bruise forming on her cheek, right were his hand was and he looked straight at her, eyes huge and showing her the perfect mixture of angry and shocked and afraid.

Surprised by his sudden change she frowned and jerked her head, pushing accidentally into his hand. The pain she felt in that precise spot, that same one she'd forgotten everything about, was enough of an answer. "Oh, I had an accident." She realised, only too late, her light hearted tone had done nothing to calm is fears and worries. "I was upstairs with Bailey and we butted heads."

He sighed, feeling a weight lifted off his chest. "You should be more careful."

"Actually it was him who just launched himself against me, so… I guess his head's already harder than mine."

Owen pulled her back against him, rubbing her back. This time, though, they were both smiling, feeling the presence of the other was enough to be okay to be sad. "You went to see Bailey?"

Amelia nodded against his chest. "He made a drawing for Meredith and I helped him sign it."

Owen felt like his chest was all of a sudden too tight, his heart was swelling with pride he felt for Amelia. She was such a strong person. His hand was in her hair, it somehow always seemed to end up there, and he stroked the dark curls slowly and rhythmically. He'd heard distinctively the sadness in her voice, but this time it didn't sound like she was missing her baby, rather feeling a void, on this day of all days. "You're amazing." He felt her smile into her neck, pushing further into him as another bout of air blew from under them. When it calmed he resumed his activity of smoothing out her hair, while she just stood there against him. "Who knows, maybe in a few years we could have that."

The words had flown out of his mouth faster than he'd been able to control the impulse and he regretted saying it the second he hear himself. Not that he regretted what he'd said, but today, right now, was the worst possible moment for something like that. "Sorry, I know it's too early and we're not… we're definitely not there, right?"

"No. Yes, I mean, no we're – uh, not there." He was still holding her tight, now a little bit afraid she would run away, but she was just there, breathing warm air against his neck. "I, uh… I'd really like to be there, though. In a few years." He nodded his agreement and kissed her hair, feeling the vent vibrate under his feet, bracing for the new unstoppable, scary, exciting turn in his life.


End file.
